In the Company of Mischief
by lucidhalos
Summary: Loki has lost everything. The odds have always been against him, but he is determined to finally win. He has nothing else left to lose and everything to gain. The Avengers cannot stop him now. However, Darcy Lewis might—and she just may become his complete downfall. [Loki/Darcy]
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I also have this posted on AO3 and Wattpad, just in case anyone recognizes it.

 _Set after the events of **Thor: The Dark World**_ _._ _Partially AU_ _.  
_ This is not beta'd. Any mistakes are my own.  
 _ **Edited on:**_ March 1, 2018.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

* * *

 **I.**

* * *

Loki was falling.

And he could do nothing more than bitterly laugh at his circumstances. He would not have been in this mess had he dealt with everything properly, but it was too late. He would now have to face the consequences that came from his hesitation. If only he had not chosen to spare Odin's life, then he would not have been forced to flee in the sake of his own—but how long could he have played the false ruler before he gave himself up anyway? Almost half a year had gone by when the real king decided to finally wake from his deep slumber and Loki barely had the time to escape the wrath that followed Odin's return. The All-Father was quite creative when it came to torture and he would be damned if he would allow himself to befall punishment so easily.

It angered him. Odin claimed to be just and fair to his sons, and yet it always seemed like he was the one who got the worst of it—for instance, the All-Father seemed to think sewing his lips shut for lying had been quite reasonable. On the other hand, Thor got thrown into another realm for his arrogance and Loki simply decided he would take a page from that lesson. Why not just send himself to Midgard? Of course, he changed the rules up a tad bit. While Thor may have been stripped of his hammer, Loki would keep his magic.

And while this may not seem like much of a punishment, Loki begged to differ. Last time he had been in Midgard, his pride had been left damaged and his defeat had been the final humiliating blow. He was risking reopening those wounds by seeking salvation in that realm. Those wounds may still ache and taunt him, but he would not allow things to play out the same way again. It would be different this time.

He would not be blindsided again. _He had a plan_.

The atmosphere seemed to hum eerily before a large explosion of blue light infected the night sky. The earth trembled and quaked as a body crashed violently into the asphalt. However, not a single soul was around to witness the impact that had shaken the deserted lot. In the midst of the smoldering crater lay the god of mischief, breathing heavily on hands and knees.

His hair lay in disarray, his eyes obstructed by a curtain of dark hair. His body was covered with a sheen of sweat that could be seen visibly seen under the glow of the moon. A singular bead of sweat rolled down from his brow and down to the tip of his aristocratic nose. He shuddered, exhaling heavily through pale thin lips. His arrival had been anything but smooth, but he supposed that is what happened when you allowed the Tesseract to blindly toss you from one realm and into another.

Loki's lean figured doubled over, before coiling like an eel. He was shaking with the same ferocity of a rattlesnake ready to strike—one could almost taste the venom from the hiss that resonated from the back of his throat. However, his wrath remained silenced as he exhaled all that malice through his nose. His body was trembling with anger and pain and something unhinged and wild swirled in those molten green eyes.

He was seething.

A moment ago, he had been laughing at how ludicrous the events had unfolded, but now was just angry. How had he allowed himself to slip up? He should have dealt with Odin from the start. Had he grown soft while playing a ruse on the Asgardian kingdom? He felt both disgusted and irritated with himself—but most of all, he was angry at the All-Father. He cursed all of the Nine Realms for his circumstance. Why did a god like him have to flee when he had had everything in his hands? It was utterly disgraceful.

And now his body was damaged, and his plans would take even longer to transpire. He hated that he had turned to this realm for shelter, but unfortunately it held what he needed to rule.

The dust settled down around him as he let out another shaky breath. He let himself collapse onto his side, allowing his emerald cape to coil around him like a cocoon and cradle his rage until only his shallow breaths remained. His hate lingered even after his body relaxed and he lay still, listening to the darkness around him. Nothing could smother the hatred that simmered within him, for hate had become the very foundation of his core.

His fingers twitched at his sides, feeling the grooves and cracks under his form. A wave of déjà vu swept over him, as he recalled the time the Hulk had left him imprinted on the ground. He stiffened at the recollection but was quick to stomp those memories out. Instead, he decided to focus on the present. Once he was feeling better, he would need to hide all this evidence—especially the Tesseract that had transported him here. Thanos and his army were still actively seeking the artifact. If he did not hide it, they would find it and everything would be ruined. This was the path the fallen prince had chosen to tread and there was no turning back now. He was forced to play a hand he had not wished to. Had he not hesitated months ago, he would not have to be crawling back to Midgard now.

There was nothing but mere silence in the air—any creature that had witnessed the fall and crash of the Norse god had fled with fear. Nothing stirred in the dark and all was quiet, except for the sounds of his shallow breaths and the rustling of the wind-blown leaves in the distance. The smell of the brisk air was strong and biting, even with the dust now filling his lungs. There was something soothing about the emptiness, but nothing could extinguish the wrath that still thundered within him.

Why had Thor allowed them to keep the scepter? He had taken the Tesseract with him but had allowed the mortals to keep his weapon here. Humans did not deserve such power. It was almost insulting to think they could ever begin to even understand the power inside the scepter. He was aware that S.H.I.E.L.D. had taken it into their possession, but the whereabouts of it still remained a mystery. It did not help that the Avengers and his dear adoptive brother was here to make sure it would remain out of reach of someone like him. It would be risky and reckless to just go after it blindly—but it was his and he would claim it once more. He would not run for eternity when a throne was beckoning for him to rule.

Yet, he hated that there had been no hesitation to flee here. It almost seemed like forever ago, but he had once wanted to rule the realm as their king. He had wanted to rule this realm and make the inhabitants kneel before him as he ruled with an iron fist and a firm hand. After all, humans are weak without subjugation and he is but a merciful god. He would have been the sovereign they needed, and they would have feared him as equally as they loved him.

But now that plan left nothing more than a bitter taste in his mouth. His last visit here had ended in with his humiliation. He had had his victory snatched out of the palm of his hand by a ragtag of so-called heroes.

It had been degrading. Midgard was nothing more than a consolation prize in comparison to what he truly wanted. The unfortunate reality was, that he had finally gotten what he wanted and had lost it. Asgard had been within the palm of his hands for _months_. And all the while, no one had even noticed that the true Odin was amiss. He had ruled with a tenacity of a true king and everything had been going oh-so-smoothly—even with loose ends still at play. The Chitauri and Thanos were in no doubt still actively seeking him out for vengeance, but no one would ever look for the dead and know where to find the missing.

And to think this had all began when he had decided to fake his death. The plan had been a simple one where he would finally be a hero and free himself his imprisonment. The devious idea had come to him as he steered the skiff toward Svartalfheim. He had reluctantly fallen into the role of saving Thor's mortal, but it had been the only way he would get justice for his mother. It also turned into a golden opportunity to be finally free of his confinement once the ash and dust had finally settled. Thor would leave his fallen body behind and he would be left to deliver the news to his father in disguise while Thor had his hands tied with Malekith.

The plan had been absolutely ingenious. Loki had predicted that Odin would send the Einherjar after them, but from there on fortune and fate would dictate the turnabouts. He would kill the elite guard and steal his identity—all it had taken was a swift dagger and a bit of magic to trick them all.

Loki returned to the palace in disguise, planning on delivering the news personally himself before disappearing completely. He had to make sure everything would come to a proper conclusion when it came to Asgard.

And oh, how fortunate had decided to favor him once again. The scheme turned out to be even better when the king fell into Odinsleep. When the All-Father heard the news of Loki's death, he simply collapsed.

Loki's death had been the final nail on the coffin—but he refused to acknowledge that Odin ever cared for him. _He was not his son_. He was just some fool groomed to be used and doomed to be mocked and have his so-called birthright dangled in front of him like a plaything.

He sneered.

His title as a prince should have been enough conviction that he could one day become king, but alas, he was never given that opportunity. After all, he was but a stolen relic from the war—a monster that parents warned their children about. He existence was merely there to take the blame. Loki was none other than a pawn for the great king and a scapegoat to the rest of Asgard. He was never expected to be a king—instead he was destined to be a sham. Fate was cruel and unjust to him. He had been an unwanted runt to the Jötunn and a criminal to the Aesir he paraded around as.

The only person to have ever truly accepted him for who he was had been his dear mother. Her death had been a shock, but it should have been no surprise really. Everything that was ever good in his life always turned out to be a mere illusion. It was his destiny it seemed.

He laughed. He had been so naïve—nothing but a fool caught up in a great lie. How had the god of lies been so blind? If it had not been for Thor's hastiness, he would have continued living blissfully unaware of his true heritage.

His lip curled.

Loki had always been second best, for Thor was the golden child who's glory cast a large shadow over the younger prince. In a realm where magic was eclipsed by physical power, he never stood a chance for splendor. He felt a lump form in his throat. It did not matter what Loki did because his brother was always the one on the pedestal. Thor was the king and the hero, while fortune forced him to play the fool and the villain.

But for once, fate decided to be fair and just and to deliver him an opportunity to clutch onto. As Odin's body lay like a giant unstrung marionette, it occurred to him that this was the opportunity for greatness. His plans to escape to Alfheim were no longer of interest. He decided to take matters into his own hands—destiny had played him the fool long enough. Last time the king had fallen into Odinsleep, Loki had been in too much grief over the treachery and reality of his ancestry—but now, this time things would play out much more differently.

The plan had evolved—there was no longer any interest in fleeing and hiding away the rest of his life. _No_. This was a chance for him to step away from the shadows. Everything had changed so quickly before his eyes and seeing that throne glitter in the Asgardian sunlight, all gold and glorious, sparked life into his sleeping agenda. He had never truly lost his ambition to rule, especially when he could hear something screaming within his very core to take what was rightfully his.

His entire soul _craved_ for it.

And that is what Loki exactly did. He took back _his_ throne. However, he could not just simply step in as he was. That would undo the whole opportunity, for the people of Asgard would never allow a criminal as their ruler. He knew better. There was no benefit in ruling a kingdom he would have to fight tooth and nail for to keep. Instead, he chose to hide the true king and cast his illusions. Loki simply took his place, and no one would ever know the difference.

His older brother had been the only problem left to deal with. Odin had always planned for Thor, his one and true son, to become king—but the stupid oaf knew nothing more than war and brutality. He was foolhardy and arrogant and had no true grasp of strategy. All he did was swing that bloody hammer.

So, he was taken aback when Thor spoke so fondly of him. It had been shocking to hear such humbling words spill forth from a mouth so accustomed to sprouting haughty nonsense. There had been no brazenness in his tone and he had spoken sincerely from his heart.

This did not change the fact that the god of thunder had to go. Loki may have been surprised by his brother's honesty, but those honeyed words would do nothing to soothe the bitterness that had long ago been sown within him. He still had to be dealt with properly and in order to do so, he would have to appeal to his adoptive brother and strike him when his defenses were down. Thor may be a seasoned warrior, but Loki had always been the cunning opportunist.

He would settle this.

However, the plan never came to fruition—instead it took a very unexpected turn. His older brother confessed that his little brother would have made a much more suitable king and he denounced himself, forfeiting the throne for his Midgardian lover. The gesture had been both sickening and sweet, considering the mighty God had thrown his birthright for a mere mortal. Nonetheless, Thor left Asgard and returned to Midgard to live out the rest of his days with Jane and the god of mischief was left with one last issue to resolve—what to do with the latent king?

When Odin had initially fallen, he had been prepared to end it all. However, he found himself incapable of killing the man he once knew as his father and the fact angered him. How could he still care for someone like him? How could they call him the god of lies, when the comatose Aesir was clearly better suited for that title. The only thing Loki ever wanted from the All-Father was his acceptance—to be equal to Thor.

And he could not get any kind of approval from a dead king.

Odin would have gotten his just deserves in due time. Unfortunately, Loki underestimated just how much time he had to deal with him. He had chosen to hide the king away and rule the kingdom. His ambition did not just lie with sitting upon the Asgardian throne—no, he wanted to rule all the realms. But, he could not do so when his kingdom was damaged.

The Dark Elves had left Asgard with destruction and casualties. It would take time for him to rebuild and fortify everything before he could engage in his next course of action. He may have been deceitful to the realm's inhabitants, but he did no harm in the play. Asgard was just a part of a greater plan.

However, not dealing with the true king ended up costing him.

Odin had been far from pleased to know his adoptive son had been masquerading around as him. Loki did not have to be in his presence to know so. When he had heard Odin's voice booming through the palace walls, he knew the mistake he had made. It had felt like he had been doused with ice water, for he still had so much more to do. But he had no choice but to flee because he knew his punishment would be much more severe this time.

If he had reacted that way to Loki's deception, he would have loved to see how the All-Father would react when he found out that his eldest son had given up the crown for a Midgardian. He knew the king would eventually try and contact Thor, but that would be a problem to deal with as it caught up to him. Odin will have other problems to deal with first.

Right now, he knew if the king got a hold of him everything would be lost. His punishment would be far worse than death, especially now that Frigga was no longer around to keep his fury at bay. Loki was not stupid and knew his mother was the reason he had simply been imprisoned instead of disciplined like he always had before. He had seen plenty of people executed for lesser crimes.

She had also been the reason why his imprisonment had been so accommodating—other prisoners were not given the pleasures of books and furniture like he had been. But now, the queen was dead and the king was angry. One prince had given up the throne in the name of love and the other prince had been denied of what he had been promised all his life. The fates could not have weaved a story far more tragic than that.

Loki barely had time to escape Asgard. He knew the vault would be vacant and the key, the Tesseract, would be resting there and waiting. After the fiasco with the Avengers, the cubical object had been used to rebuild the Bïfrost and it had become the source of power for transportation.

Odin may have been able to repair the bridge with his own powers, but something of that degree would have more than likely killed him as a result. Instead, it had been decided that the Tesseract would be the solution and Odin summoned enough power to send Thor to fetch it and stop the chaos that he had brought to Midgard. When they had returned to Asgard, the artifact was given to Heimdall for safekeeping and the bridge was back again to keep Asgard connected to the rest of the realms within Yggdrasil.

And of course, Heimdall was the gatekeeper for a good reason—with those golden eyes he was capable of seeing anything within the nine realms. He not only possessed vast sight, but he also possessed expertise in combat and the strength to support it. He was the absolute perfect loyal soldier to the king.

And for that, he had to go once Loki stepped in. Odin had placed his loyal watchman in prison for his admitted treason— there was no doubt that he would not have been in there for very long, but Loki made sure that he did. Heimdall would have ruined his plans as soon as he looked at him, for the sentry was quite difficult to trick in person. He had always been the only person that could ever see through his ruse and his silvertongue always seemed to turn to lead in his presence. The last thing he needed was the accursed sentry ruining his plans like the last time he had.

Heimdall would not ruin his plans for escaping either. The Bïfrost and the vault lay vacant for months—forgotten and abandoned with the gatekeeper imprisoned. No one dared to venture to the dormant observatory and it had made it all the much easier for him to run down the iridescent bridge and pry the Tesseract from its chamber with no hiccups. With it gone, there was no easy way to travel between the realms. He was the only one who knew of the secret passageways and Odin did not possess the power to send a multitude of people after him.

But he did know that his father would not rest until he was recaptured. He closed his eyes—he doubted the All-Father would keep Heimdall locked up anymore, but Loki was safe for _now_. The sentry may be capable of seeing all, but from afar Loki had the advantage. His magic was foolproof from here and he was completely capable of keeping himself hidden away from those golden eyes.

Loki slowly and shakily stood, causing broken pieces of blacktop to crunch loudly under his feet. The Tesseract lay just a few feet away, wedged between the broken asphalt, but perfectly fine. It glowed softly within the canister it sat in. The familiarity of the situation washed over him. However, this time, there was no scepter in his hands and no mind-controlled soldiers serving on his side.

He dusted himself off and glanced around the vacant lot, noting the buildings around him were empty and decaying—all long-forgotten industrial relics. There was not a soul around for what looked like a few miles. He thanked Valhalla that he had managed to land somewhere so remote. It would give him an opportunity to heal and gather information before he conducted his next plan of action. Last time he was here, the Chitauri scepter had helped him greatly and it would help him again.

Loki would get back his scepter.

But he also knew it would not be so easy. S.H.I.E.L.D. had possession of the weapon and as much as he hated giving them any credit, he doubted that they would keep it somewhere obvious. He needed a plan. He may have initially taken the Tesseract when he had first arrived in Midgard, but things would not play out the same way.

The biggest obstacle that stood in his way would be his brother. Thor's allies did not pose as great of a threat as the thunder god did. He could deal with the mortals and their giant green pet. The problem he had to deal with now was not allowing it to get to his head. He had been so reckless and overly confident before. He needed to be a lot more delicate this time, considering he had an advantage for now—everyone outside of Asgard believed him to be dead and he could use that to his advantage.

But this was beyond infiltrating a base. He knew better now. Loki could not afford to underestimate these Earthlings once more. That had been his downfall before and it had ended up with his pride being torn apart. He may have failed, but he knew he would do the same again. He would not allow a repeat of his mistakes.

No.

He was going to approach this matter a lot more different and work on a plan before taking any further action. It was important that he remained a couple of steps ahead. They did not call him the god of mischief for nothing.

After all, fortune has finally been favoring him and the scepter would be his _again_.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Phew_. So this one is a bit of a doozy. I'm trying to keep to the canon as much as I can, but this is going to end up straying off canon as it progresses. For now, **_Age of Ultron_** is going to be disregarded because you know, the mind stone is in someone's forehead.

I would also like to clarify some possible confusion—Loki sustaining damage from a fall. Need I remind you, that he basically fell through realms to arrive on Earth. I would assume he would use up a lot of his magic to keep up his disguise as Odin and thus him landing like that would probably shake him up and leave him injured for at least a few days.

There will be a lot of parallel comparisons and some easter eggs, because who doesn't like those? Loki is essentially following a similar schtick to what he did last time he was on Midgard, but now he's by himself—but don't underestimate a trickster. The reason why he took the Tesseract instead of a secret passageway was to keep Odin busy, since in the comics it is powering the bridge, which is why it wasn't broken in **_Dark World_**. S.H.I.E.L.D. should also have no clue about that, since technically Thor returned to Asgard after **_The Avengers_** movie. Just a bit of a note on that.

If anyone else has any other questions, let me know! Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**II.**

Darcy Lewis groaned as soon as her alarm clock started screeching. Instinctively, she slammed on the snooze button and buried her face into a pillow. It was rather difficult as of late to get much sleep—something was making her restless and it did not help that her roommates did not ease the problem. The two were lively at the worst hours of the night. She couldn't blame them, considering their work schedules left them with little time together during the day.

She rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, absentmindedly staring at the way the sunlight had flickered through the blinds. It looked so serene in contrast to the busy streets of New York outside. It had been about a month now since they had left their London flat and moved into this penthouse. Unfortunately for Darcy, her intern and former boyfriend Ian were no more—he had decided she was far too wild for him to handle and truthfully, it was his loss. But that affected her more than she let on. He hurt her feelings with his disapproval, considering how fast she had fallen for the British man.

She blamed the accent and her stupid ovaries for swooning over his act of heroism. Her feelings would have been fine if she had not fallen for him so hard initially. However, she was young and she would eventually recover. Aside from that, she was no longer tied down and free to live the way she wanted.

Well, sort of.

Her plans of freedom once she got her degree in political science died as soon as she took the internship under Jane Foster two years ago and fate decided to throw a Norse legend onto their vehicle— _twice_ —but that had only been the beginning. Once S.H.I.E.L.D. got flung into the mix, her life suddenly became much more complex than she could have ever imagined. She was no longer just an intern, but the lead assistant to Dr. Jane Foster and both women were under the thumb of S.H.I.E.L.D.

She was a civilian who happened to know too much. They would not allow her to just walk away from this without nonstop issues and thus it was no rocket science that when Jane propositioned her the role of assistant, that she took it without hesitation. She could not complain too much about her current role, considering the perks that came along with it. The merit was that she continued to work with Dr. Foster, and with her came Thor and company. Of course, the added bonus was that their living costs were covered by the agency—this included the penthouse the trio currently lived in.

To top it all off, Darcy was also getting paid to keep her mouth shut and to continue to help Jane with research. She really was in no position to complain, but she hated the fact that her life was literally in their hands.

When thinking back on it, it seemed funny that this was a result of a summer internship in New Mexico. It had been a lot simpler when it had just been Erik, Jane, and herself. Unfortunately, things got complicated when a certain agency decided they wanted to eyeball your every move. As a result, her degree in political science was put on indefinite hiatus and it was all due to the fact her hands were so tied up with her current job. Granted, the degree was not that important to her now, for she had learned more than Culver University could have ever offered. However, she was conflicted because it was a degree that she would have _earned_ on her own.

She sighed.

It was hard to go back to how things used to be. She could not even recall the last time she had seen her family in person, having to settle with phone calls to even interact with them. It was sad just how much of her life and time the job was consuming. On the bright side of it all, she was no longer in any financial crisis when it came to her student loans. The men in black had paid off her college debt as a way to apologize for initially ransacking the lab back in Puente Antiguo. It was really nice of them, but it did not excuse them of their actions. For instance, not letting her finish school.

Darcy did not trust the organization at all, while Jane remained forever wary of her bosses. They had been suspicious of their actions ever since the way they treated the women from day one. The suits had thought it was in their right to take all their research and equipment because they can and that had left both of the women irritated and appalled. That had just been the start of their mistrust.

The nail on the coffin had been when S.H.I.E.L.D. snatched them up and threw them into an observatory in Norway out of nowhere—granted, at the time Jane had just started working for S.H.I.E.L.D. But, they did not even offer up an explanation for their actions and Darcy had to snoop around to even find any answers. This led her to break down firewalls and gain access to blocked content. They had tried so hard to block them from the outside world, but they should know better than to get in the way of a girl and her social media. Once she managed to bypass the security and get online, everything was put on display thanks to work of the Rising Tide. As hard as S.H.I.E.L.D. and the government tried to keep the mess contained, many people found out of the Battle in New York thanks to leaked video footage. And upon discovering what was truly going on, it was apparent that the agency they worked for could not trust them with the truth—and surely, they could not trust the suits in return.

While S.H.I.E.L.D. provided them with comfortable living arrangements, technology, and other resources, they knew the agency would not hesitate to cut them off if they wanted to. Dr. Selvig had seemingly been deemed much more important to them, even though Dr. Foster had been the one to discover the anomaly and pursue it—which led to Thor and everything that followed. Even though Jane was incredibly smart, she was also deemed disposable. This only meant that her intern-turned-assistant Darcy was just as expendable.

Thor certainly eased the fear of that, because they knew the organization would not risk getting on the hero's bad side. S.H.I.E.L.D. would never dare to threaten or harm his girlfriend, and so by extension Darcy remained just as safe. After all, the god was protective of his lover and his friends.

In addition, the last thing Earth would want is an interstellar warfare, considering Asgard would back up Thor need be. She highly doubted S.H.I.E.L.D. would be able to handle an army of god-like beings.

Darcy closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples as she remembered when Thor had returned to their London flat. It had been on the same day as the alien invasion that had struck Greenwich. While the damage was nothing in comparison to what the Chitauri had done to New York, it had still been quite catastrophic to the traumatized citizens.

Like New York, Darcy expected Thor to pop in save the day and leave once more. So everyone had been confused at Thor's return. He had been gone for only a few hours and had come back looking just as he had left. Initially, she had thought the god had forgotten something, but when he told his girlfriend that he would be staying on Midgard for good it had been a pleasant surprise. Jane had been distressed the moment he had left, just as she had been during his two-year absence. Now, he was back to stay and she could not hold back her tears of happiness. He had apparently given up the Asgardian throne for her.

It was so freaking romantic that it made Darcy almost gag. But, she was happy for her friend. If anyone deserved a happy ending, they certainly did.

While the group lived in domestic bliss for a good while, S.H.I.E.L.D. decided to finally reach out to them once more after a prolonged silence. They contacted both Dr. Selvig and Dr. Foster and had all of them picking up their things and moving back to the United States. They wanted Thor back in the city and it was his civil duty as an Avenger to stay close to the rest of the team. Aside from that, they got a personal invitation from Stark to come and work with him at the tower.

She was quite thankful for that invitation, considering she had just begun to find England quite miserable after Ian decided to break her heart.

The sound of clattering bowls and plates drew her attention back to reality, and she realized that she had to get up already and go wash up before Thor ate all the good stuff. Darcy stretched and got to her feet, scratching at her stomach absentmindedly as she padded towards the bathroom. She stumbled in front of the sink to assess her face and saw that her lack of good sleep was starting to show. She made a face and splashed it with water in an attempt to wash away the bags from under her stormy blue eyes, but realized that her only solution would be to hide them behind her glasses.

It did not take the young brunette long to shower and hurry down the hall to the kitchen. If she took any longer, Jane would surely have her head. The three of them always left together in the morning, but in the evening they would trickle back one a time—Darcy usually being the first or the last to return. It was during those few times that she came home early that she binged on ice cream and television. A part of her still silently mourned for her charming ex-boyfriend, but she would never admit it. She did not think she had been that emotionally invested in the man, but it turned out that she had cared a lot more for him than she had initially thought. It had not been love, but it could have turned into something of the sort and that lost opportunity is what still bugged her. But what had bothered her the most had been his words.

She was not completely transparent about it, but her personality had been turned down a wee-bit since the break-up. They had broken up a few weeks before being forced to move to New York and she was not completely over it. Clearly, it was his loss and not hers—or so, that was what she kept telling herself. He had claimed that she was too blunt, too aggressive, and too carefree for someone as serious as himself.

Usually, such claims just made her want to flip the person off, but she had tried to fix these issues for their sake. However, there came a push and pull and she gave up entirely on trying to salvage the relationship. Her attire as of late reflected her mood— she was back to wearing her oversized and shapeless sweaters and forgetting to put make-up on entirely.

That would not be such a problem if Jane had not noticed this, because for a workaholic to notice something as trivial as that just showed that there was something clearly wrong. However, Jane respected Darcy enough not to pry and she was thankful for that. If there was one thing she loved about the older woman, was the fact that she was the fact she respected boundaries.

It did not take long for Darcy to stumble into the kitchen, pulling a large navy blue sweater over her camisole and flopping down onto a stool. Thor was already inhaling his second helping of food and Jane was sipping delicately at her mug of coffee while mulling over her research notes. She raised her head as soon as Darcy sat down and carefully pushed a bright yellow mug with the same warm liquid at her assistant, who took it happily.

"Just a heads up, but S.H.I.E.L.D. thinks we need another set of hands in the lab," Jane muttered, a tinge of annoyance in her voice.

Darcy frowned. Did they think she was not good enough to help Jane?

"Why?" she grumbled, as she reached over for a piece of toast.

The astrophysicist shrugged her shoulders, "They think a fresh pair of eyes would be a great addition. They think we would be able to create an Einstein-Rosen Bridge if we had more help. They drag us away from studying the Convergence for _this_."

"Because they know best, right?" Darcy remarked while rolling her eyes.

"If they have a problem with your research, would they not claim so?" Thor interjected as he put his empty glass of juice on the table. Both women stared incredulously at the God of Thunder. He sheepishly grinned, "but I believe you two already do a fine job."

"Unfortunately, S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't seem to think so," Darcy stated as she waved around the butter knife in her hand, "but shouldn't they already have their hands tied with Tony? He is _milking_ the Avengers fame."

"They can't do anything about it, because Stark is helping them and providing equipment for research since they had to go dark," Jane added, a little pleased that Iron Man was getting under the agency's skin. That was a notion that both ladies could support.

After the Battle of New York, many people knew of the Avengers. Thanks to the recognition, a fan base slowly emerged and a certain multi-billionaire decided to take advantage of it—and she knew it wasn't for the money. It was not a surprise that everyone's favorite philanthropist decided he was going to turn the Stark Tower into the Avenger's Tower because S.H.I.E.L.D. decided it was going to go and hide under a rock after the invasion. She figured they were ashamed, but their absence was somewhat short-lived for they were back a little before the Dark Elves struck London.

However, they were not the same anymore.

Although Nick Fury remained the head of the agency, they were missing another important asset—Phil Coulson, who had been killed in action. He had unfortunately been impaled through the chest by the alien staff wielded by the psycho of mischief. It had been brave and foolish of him, but she respected him for his valor. While she respected his bravery, S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed to instead sweep his death under the rug. There had been no further mention of him.

While S.H.I.E.L.D. chose to remain mute on the matter, Tony Stark did not. He had been somewhat close to Coulson and so it was no surprise that the Avengers was created in his honor—of course, with the name came the changes to the tower. It was just a bonus that the building was an eyesore that would piss off S.H.I.E.L.D. with the name plastered on it.

On a day-to-day basis, paparazzi and fans swarmed the building in hopes of catching even a glimpse of the heroes. Of course, it should come to no one's surprise that Tony would exploit such an opportunity and inflate his ego even more. When S.H.I.E.L.D. returned to this, they were not pleased the slightest, but it was too late to turn back. The building belonged to Stark and everyone had already learned of the Avengers due to leaked footage and the news. S.H.I.E.L.D. just had to deal with it and hope that their name would not be further tarnished. While they were not a complete secret to the government, what they truly did remained hidden behind closed doors.

But Tony didn't really care about that. He spent a great deal of time and money on the tower, but he had also spent a considerable amount of funds to aid the damaged city he had saved. As arrogant of a man the ironclad hero was, he was also incredibly generous. In comparison to S.H.I.E.L.D., he was a saint.

"I still don't understand how they could just slither back after what they had done," Darcy spat out and angrily bit into her toast. She knew the World Security Council had not hesitated to try and level all of New York City in order to put a stop to the invasion. If it had not been for Iron Man's reckless heroism, the city would have been no more and thousands of innocent people would have died. Why did S.H.I.E.L.D. not step up and stop that missile? It would have been devastating if that nuclear missile had been successful.

Instead, the Avengers had saved the day and S.H.I.E.L.D. had disappeared into hiding without another word. With no orders, Jane and Erik had decided to continue to science and the group went to England for further research and study.

"I am certain they had their reasons, but one shouldn't let angry thoughts fester," Thor calmly inputted as he absentmindedly stretched. He was oblivious was that exactly did to the muscles under his gray tee.

"Well, I don't think we're…ever going to get an answer," Jane added weakly, her amber eyes now focused on his chest. The younger woman noticed. There was no use in trying to hold a conversation with Jane when she was distracted, but she certainly couldn't blame her.

Darcy sighed before she stood up with her plate in hand. The unfortunate reality for the citizens of New York was they had no clue the missile had been their own government's doing. In fact, they believed it was the doing of the Chitauri. The only people to know the actual truth were the Avengers and close company.

She scowled and placed the plate into the sink, before stealing a glance at her roommates. Thor and Jane were now silently eyeballing each other, his hand now resting lovingly on hers. It was quite evident how this was affecting the scientist, whose face flushed a tiny bit. A small smile formed on Darcy's lips.

It was still odd seeing the former Asgardian prince wearing human clothes, but here he was in a fitted tee and denim blue jeans. His blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep his hair out of his face and he was absolutely beaming as he stared at the woman sitting aside him. He really adored Jane. The two really were meant for one another, as much as things like this made her own heart twitch with memories of her failed relationship with Ian.

However, she swallowed that bit of jealousy down and made a beeline for the front door, "I'm ready to go whenever you guys are!"

It only took a moment before the two pulled away from each other. Jane shuffled her notes into a neat pile and shoved them into her folder and Thor moved the rest of the dirty dishes into the sink. Within a few minutes, they all were bundled up in their coats and shuffling out the door into the cool autumn air.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I wanted to point out that Tony decided to be the bigger man and help S.H.I.E.L.D. out when they fully returned. I would assume a mixture of shame and anger would have caused them to go dark, considering they had failed to stop the World Security Council—who is probably not too happy with the interference either. I would think they would be trying to step up and do things themselves more at this point, instead of relying on the government they trusted and work for. I would say the decision to work with Iron Man would be Fury's call. Additionally, Tony is the only person who probably has the best facilities and technology for trying to create wormholes to other dimensions. Just saying.


	3. Chapter 3

**III.**

The potent smells of mold, lead, and rust filled the air of the abandoned factory, as the morning sun filtered through the grimy and broken windows. The place looked worn down and quite hazardous, but it was not enough to deter the god who decided to take residence inside of it.

Loki stared at the glowing blue object sitting within the confines of the canister. The case was covered with Asgardian runes, which made him snort with distaste. The object within was the farthest thing from Aesir—in fact, he knew it came from somewhere beyond Yggdrasil. Unfortunately, the libraries of Asgard did not hold much knowledge about things outside the nine realms.

There was not really much to go off of—he only had a hunch based on his readings on what he truly was dealing with. He had stumbled upon lore speaking of six infinity stones and how each one wielded a different power. It was safe to make an assumption that the Tesseract was one of them and he had an inkling that the Aether just may be another. Unfortunately, his suspicions would remain as such because he had no clue the whereabouts of the thing after Odin had Sif deliver it elsewhere for safekeeping.

He had not bothered to look into it, considering he had been so focused on rebuilding Asgard. Loki had planned on doing more than just sitting on a throne. He had plans that unfortunately had not come to fruition due to Odin's awakening. However, his time will come once more.

The God of Mischief sighed and closed his eyes. There were only a handful of books with any information pertaining to the infinity stones, due to the fact that they did not come from Yggdrasil. He only knew that there were six of them and vaguely of their capabilities based on the mentioned lore. The exact locations of these stones were unbeknownst to him. The only one he had possession of was the space gem within the Tesseract.

What amused him, however, was that there was more lore on the infinity stones catered towards children than there was actual factual information. He knew they were not just a conjured tale, as he held proof in his hands to attest for it. These stones were real and not just a fairytale.

The tales spoke of cosmic entities that had created these six gems that can only be wielded by beings with immense power. Loki did not know the reasoning for the existence of these gems, but he certainly knew he had enough power to handle them himself. Unfortunately, what powers they possessed remained unclear but it held just enough information to point towards something magnificent.

He exhaled softly, his breath creating a small puff of cool air as he leaned forward further, spreading his legs out wider. He let his fingers absentmindedly brush against the glass surface as he pondered to himself.

All he knew was this had to be one of those powerful cosmic stones that floated around in the universe. He was quite certain of it. Additionally, he had a hunch the gem that had been lodged in his scepter may be another. It certainly fit the criteria of the mind stone.

But he has to get his hands on it to confirm it.

Loki closed his eyes and leaned back against his seat, cradling the canister in his lap as he palmed the top of his knees in thought. He vaguely wondered the whereabouts of the other stones. Perhaps, S.H.I.E.L.D. knew of something? Maybe, for once, Midgard would actually be useful to him.

He shifted in his chair, before glancing around at his surroundings. The prince had taken refuge inside the abandoned warehouse he had fallen near and while the inside was decaying in most places, it held up structurally and would do for now. While the inside was anything but desirable, Loki decided he could wait for the time being, considering he was still recovering from his trip.

His fist clenched and unclenched. The Tesseract had been unpredictable with its location drop, but it had managed to deliver him close enough to his desired destination. Somehow, the stone had transported him just outside of New York, when he had been unable to figure out how to use it—but it had failed to deliver him safely. The landing had been anything but gentle and his bones still ached from the impact. Fortunately, the wounds were healing.

The body of a god healed much faster than a mortal and during his time of rest, he pondered over what to do in order to get back the scepter. For one, he needed to figure out its whereabouts. And two, he had to figure out how to get to it without being caught.

Then there were other issues.

Thanos was still out for his head, for he did not know of his supposed demise. Loki had been hidden from the Mad Titan thanks to the cloaking spell his mother had placed on his cell. Now, he had to use his own magic to remain hidden from him _and_ Heimdall—who was most certainly out of his prison by now. Odin would not keep him locked up while Loki was on the loose.

He was a fugitive thought to be dead, but that would change as soon as Odin got the word out to Thor. That is, when the All-Father manages to get a hold of his son. The Bïfrost Bridge would remain deactivated without the Tesseract and Odin would become severely incapacitated if he dared to use his own powers to send an army after him. He would eventually muster enough to at least reach out to Thor—but for now, things were certainly leaning in his favor.

However, once the word was out then all those complications would surface and then have to be dealt with. He was unquestionably an unforgettable face to the heroes and they would add more hindrances in his path once news of his treachery reached them.

Loki slowly stood up and set the Tesseract down on his seat before he strolled toward the concrete wall in front of him. He stared momentarily at the crumbling wall, before lifting a finger to it. A mirror slowly glimmered from the source and grew to the expanse of the wall. His eyes studied his face intensely, as he gazed at his own facial features. Is this truly what he had become? It had been months since he had seen his own face and it was almost like staring at an absolute stranger.

His time in the Asgardian dungeons had turned most of his features cold, worn, and hardened. The foolish youth had been sucked out of him ever since his true destiny had been revealed to him. He leaned closer, noting how wild and long his obsidian hair had gotten and how gaunt he had grown in these last few months of parading around and trying to rebuild a damaged kingdom.

He pursed his thin lips. It would have been so much easier to just burn the kingdom down, but that would have failed to satisfy him. After all, Asgard had been promised to him and he could be benevolent when he wanted to be.

Unfortunately, Asgard had never been as kind to him. He had always felt out of place in a palace full of warriors, for the Aesir associated power and bravery with strength and that was one thing Loki never excelled at. He was no Thor. The blonde god had always been idolized and the embodiment of what an Aesir should aspire to become—while Loki was everything not. He was a trickster, something completely frowned upon and to add more salt to that wound, he was a man who excelled in the art of magic. An art associated with the females of the court.

It had always been his calling card, ever since he was a mere babe. His mother was a fine sorceress and he spent much of his time with her seeing as he was constantly being ousted from activities. He could not compete with Thor. And a result, his father always overlooked him and his achievements. A much younger Loki thought it would have been easier to be the king's daughter rather than son—maybe then, Odin would have been proud. However, when the reality of his ancestry was revealed those thoughts were shattered. It no longer mattered.

Loki closed his eyes as his form became encompassed in gold light. It shimmered all bright and blinding before the gleam dispersed and a woman stood in his place staring at her reflection with determination.

He eyed himself coolly, before a small smile formed on his lips. Asgard had always viewed magic as a woman's tool—why not take advantage of such naivety?

The god pulled his long hair to the side and studied his features, noting that the sharp angles of his face were a tad bit more delicate and soft in this form. Loki stared at the high cheekbones, pink lips, and expanse of pale flesh exposed to him in the mirror. He looked absolutely divine.

But of course, being the master of manipulation and illusion he can play on anyone's wishes and desires, including his own.

He cocked his head to the side, letting his emerald eyes rake over his feminine form—there was no way anyone would even think that he was the God of Mischief when they're distracted by soft womanly curves. This plan was foolproof.

After all, he was a man who appreciated the beauty and he certainly liked what he saw, surely others would too and he could work that to his advantage. As a bonus, he did not need to worry about Thanos and Heimdall locating him while in this guise. They would not seek out an unknown face.

Loki let his long and wavy black hair drop as he did a slight twirl. He quickly braced himself against the mirror when he lost his balance, not accustomed to the different stature. It would take a bit of adjusting now that he was a bit shorter.

 _But this_ , this could work.

He no longer had his hands tied and could easily gather all the information he needed, especially since he found out that the Avengers were holed up in the same tower he had invaded before. It had not been hard to find that out, considering the heroes were well known. A lot had definitely changed during his absence.

He took a step back and glanced himself over once more, before stepping a few feet back—his gaze remained glued to the mirror. It was not the first time he had turned into a female, but it certainly had been a long time since he had.

The last time he had done so, it had been during his youth—he had wanted to prank the goateed womanizer Fandral. It had not been hard to seduce the warrior and lure him into the stables for a bit of fun. The plan was to turn into a wild boar as soon as the Aesir had gone far enough, which would teach him not to try and stick his dick into every woman he crossed paths with. Unfortunately, the plan backfired and Fandral had figured out it was Loki amidst their tryst— _and boy_ , did he not let him live it down.

Fandral the Dashing was far from happy about the trickery, let alone finding out that it had been the deceitful prince all along. The warrior could not kill Loki, but instead, the petulant warrior chose to spread a horrible rumor that the God of Mischief had mothered the eight-legged calf, Sleipnir—the colt had been born just a few days prior and unfortunately, the creature was an oddity that fascinated the Norse at the time. Those primitive mortals saw them as Gods and thus ate up anything said to them, including believing such lies and writing them down as tales to be passed down for generations to come. It was one of the handful of times his own trickery came back to bite him twofold.

However, there was no Fandral to ruin his plans and on one else had ever laid their eyes on him as a woman. He could use this guise to tie some dumbstruck agent to his bidding. Men were willing to do just about anything for a pretty face. If he could parade around as Odin for half a year, he could surely play a woman for as long as it was necessary to get ahold of his scepter.

The sound of flapping feathers broke him from his concentration and he turned his head to the source of the sound. A black-billed magpie sat perched overhead in the rafters, cocking its head at the God of Mischief and crooning lowly. Loki smiled and extended his arm out for the bird.

The magpie did not hesitate to swoop down and perch on the extended limb, completely comfortable in the trickster's presence. It began preening himself, digging his beak into the only white expanse of feathers on its dark body. The bird was no stranger to Loki, for he had been conjured up by using a spell and a small portion of his own soul. It was the best way to remain discreet and gather information while he healed. He could not risk putting himself out there quite yet, and thus sent out Ikol in his place. While the bird was far from native to the area, he did not pose much suspicion to those who mistook him as a crow.

Loki let one of his fingers rub against the bird's head gently, as he prodded the creature for information. A warm green glow began pulsing around the bird, as it bustled with magic. It warbled softly and extended its wings widely.

The trickster god closed his eyes and hummed appreciatively at the news the bird had gathered for him. It was finally something he could use. He eyed the bird with hooded eyes as he rewarded it with an affectionate caress. Everything seemed to be going accordingly, which was not something he was used to. His fingers paused its ministrations, and he allowed the magpie to fly back towards the rafters. The bird continued grooming itself, leaving mischief to ponder.

The Norse god paced a few steps, before returning to the seat he had previously occupied. He crossed his legs and placed the Tesseract on his lap as he leaned forward onto it. He mulled over the report, causing his body to absentmindedly rock with thought as the canister's contents hummed lowly within its confines.

Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. was looking to hire another pair of hands to help with their research—particularly, research with Thor's thrall it seems. How easy would it be for him to slip into the pool of candidates? This kind of opportunity was an ideal chance to get within the beast of the belly. It was literally perfect.

Which meant there was no room for error.

He let the container gently drop down onto the floor and between his legs as he pondered what to do in order for this to work out. As it stood now, the news of his return had not reached anyone yet. From what he gathered from Ikol, there was nothing to be heard from Odin and he would hope it would remain so for a good while. He did not need any red flags going off so soon.

The best course of action would be fabricating an identity, rather than stealing one. This way, there would be no hiccups with personal affairs. He could not afford to play the lie when he knew nothing of the person he was pretending to be. He may be a lie smith, but he was not a miracle worker.

He pursed his lips. There were also risks to making up a person. The risk was suspicion, but if he remained a woman it would draw fewer problems. Loki cocked his head and gave himself a glance in the mirror with hooded eyes. He would have to make it work somehow. A strange woman was far less suspicious than a mysterious man. Society had always deemed woman the weaker sex, when in reality they truly held all the cards when underestimated. That was his advantage.

Aside from that, he always had magic on his side.

Loki clenched his fists once and then relaxed. There was a risk of diving into this so soon—he was still healing, but part of the thrill was the risk. He will get this role and when he does, he will stand right before their very own eyes. An illusion. The perfect plan for the God of Mischief. The seed had been planted and he would pluck the sprouting opportunity.

The magpie warbled at him once more, before Loki flicked his hand in command for the bird to fly off and gather more information. He would need to find out who the current list of candidates was and what he could do about them. The competition would need to be dealt with and with bridled haste. What would be the best approach? Ikol will have to find out for him.

He chuckled, slowly shimmering back into his regular form as he rose from his seat. He turned his head and stared at his reflection once more. His lips parted with a sinister smile as he flashed the whites of his teeth.

"And so it begins."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Yes, it does. Let the slow burn commence.

And yes, this was a quick update. Mainly cause I had this chapter all ready months ago. Next update won't be so swift, but hopefully it'll come soon enough.

If you wish for a visual when it comes to Lady Loki, think Katie McGrath. She's perfect for the role. Also, I introduced a bit of the plot here and a reference to the comics with Ikol. So yes, he is canon.

Hope you like it thus far. Thank you for reading!


End file.
